Christmas, Together - An Overwatch Universe Holiday Special
by Vexche
Summary: Old Jack Morrison learns to lighten up during the holidays. (Because Blizzard's fanservice can't outdo me. All ships will sail.)


_Author's Note: As the Overwatch story team develops their lore, some details in my universe will be retconned in future stories to be more in line with the canonical universe. This story is in continuity with my previous Overwatch fics._

Christmas.

It had been a long time since Jack had experienced anything of the sort. Last December, he was holed up in a hot basement with the "resurrected" Ana Amari _,_ doing recon on the Talon operatives in Numbani. He had spent the holidays thinking about those he had left behind, not as a masochistic form of nostalgia, but to truly reflect—to remember what little parts of him from the old days were still there in case they slipped away forever. As they sat in the hideout, Ana's one good eye bleary with exhaustion, Jack couldn't help but think of them as two ghosts, of Christmases past perhaps, haunting the old world as the new one zipped by them, shiny and blue as a quantum slipstream.

"Christmas, together! In our new polar base!" Lena blinked around in excitement—"This is brilliant! I should call Emily—oh wait—" she caught the disapproving "ahem" of Athena on the speakers, perhaps the only sentient thing here trying to maintain some form of secrecy about their new base of operations— "maybe not, but still! A real holiday, with so many new family members too!"

That was part of the problem, Jack thought. The new recruits weren't exactly up to his standards. He had approved of taking Fareeha, Ana's daughter, who previously worked for Helix Security International at Giza Plateau—if only so he could pass along the information to her about her mother. But time was of the essence as Talon's operatives moved ever quicker, and there wasn't even a moment to burden her with that sort of knowledge, let alone—as they were doing now—throwing a holiday party.

"Your mother would have been proud of you, you know," he had said to her quickly after a mission briefing. "For what you are doing now."

"You didn't know my mother very well, then," Fareeha replied.

 _You don't know the half of it_ , Jack thought to himself.

The other recruits were… far from low-key. Genji's brother Hanzo was the abdicated leader of the Shimada crime gang, for Christ's sake. Zenyatta was a goddamn omnic monk—and he refused to take off his garb, despite the fact that as far as Jack knew he wasn't with the Shambali anymore.

And then there was the girl, Hana Song…

Winston had insisted that she was integral to the team, and with her hotwired mech she "borrowed" from the Korean army, she'd be able to cover for Winston and the ageing Reinhardt in the front lines. Sure, Jack had seen her work. And she was _good_. But the mech was hot pink. And she was… a movie star? A celebrity 'gaming' girl? Some covert op she was—her codename, dVa, was already internationally known! Whatever she was, Jack was having none of it, especially since she couldn't stop flirting with him.

It was especially hard to concentrate around the base these days. Between Hana in her slouchy pink sweater that kept slipping off her shoulder, perched coyly on a ladder over the mechanical tree with Zenyatta levitating Christmas ornaments up to her, and the ever bouncy Lena trying to find a Santa suit befitting of Reinhardt (all the while Torbjörn insisted that _he_ was the best Santa; " _there can only be one, Wilhelm_!") Jack couldn't help but sit in the corner chair, cross his arms, and grumble like a crotchety old man.

Then there was Angela.

The younger Jack Morrison had been a champion for a diverse and inclusive hiring policy. Determined to make Overwatch as an organization move beyond the ancient boys' club mentality of the American military that had raised him and Gabe Reyes, Jack had scouted intensely for the best and the brightest across borders, genders, and—in Winston's case—species.

But Angela had always been a distraction for him. It had been easier when she was younger; Angela had joined the task force when she was barely nineteen, the same age as Hana now, slightly older than Ana's own daughter at the time. At seventeen years old, Angela had already received a medical degree and became head of surgery at Zurich. She was brilliant, beautiful, and above all, professional. She was always business, but never came off as cold or unapproachable. An incredible performance act, Jack had to give it to her. He had sometimes wondered if she were even interested in his type, given that she so gracefully deflected the attentions of men like Torb and Rein, yet never seemed to mind spending hours cuddled up with Lena in the watchpoint bunkers, two teenage girls with their secrets. He tried not to assume anything.

In her youth, Angela had always dressed for the job—stark black turtleneck under a white lab coat, blonde hair pulled back, face obscured by digital glasses monitoring the vitals of every team member out on patrol. It was easier to keep his head down and mind off her then. Now, watching her long golden hair spilling over her pale shoulders as she sipped cocoa silently by the electric fire, Jack was beginning to think old-school gender segregation policies might not be such a bad idea after all…at least for an old dog like him.

Angela had aged gracefully, thanks in part to nanotechnology, no doubt. But Jack imagined she'd be beautiful either way. It was always her simplicity that stunned men: her straightforward manner, coupled with a gentle touch that sent warmth and chills at the same time through your skin when her fingers grazed you. Even if you were the type of man who'd be intimidated by her incredible intellect, her medical and scientific accolades, the moment she reached out to you, your insecurity would melt away. You were in her hands.

It was perhaps this womanly quality of Angela's that made girls like Hana slightly jealous. Jack could tell; Hana's face would pout and her eyes narrow whenever Angela came into the room. Maybe she saw the way Jack looked at her. He was never really good at hiding things.

As the Christmas preparations continued, Jack became restless. He finally mustered up the courage to go to her.

"Hey, Angela, a word?" he coughed, approaching her next to the fire as she finished her cocoa.

"Sure, Jack." She set the mug down and followed him across the base, as they walked by a meditating Hanzo and Genji, the two brothers seated cross-legged, side-by-side. Jack saw Angela smile as she passed Genji, whose armor hummed and lit up briefly, as if he sensed her presence too. They reached the new computer station, where Winston usually worked.

"Athena, could you give us a moment please?" Jack said preemptively.

"Certainly," came the disembodied voice. Silence. They stood among the dark screens as the white polar landscape outside glared through the windows.

"I don't like this Christmas idea," Jack muttered, "We all heard about the recent break-in at Volskaya headquarters in Russia—Talon's moving fast and we're always going to be two steps behind them if we don't—"

"Jack," Angela said in her placating voice, "I know you feel like we're racing against the clock, but I think it's important that everyone spend some down time together if we're going to be working as a team again."

" _Terrorists don't care about Christmas, Angela_!"

She almost giggled at his outburst. "Look, there's a lot of old wounds to mend and fresh faces to learn. You of all people should know that having everyone on the same page and invested in each other emotionally makes the team communication operate much smoother. It's psychologically advantageous."

"Is that your medical opinion, doc?"

"It's my personal one," Angela replied.

"Yeah, well, you've been getting rather personal with some of the team lately, I've noticed," Jack said pointedly.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean you. And Genji. You're not even making much effort to hide it. I've seen how he talks to you. I mean, I remember how it was even back in the old days. But he's your patient! You're responsible for him."

"You're one to talk," Angela retorted. "That girl Hana has been fawning after your attention and you're too—you're too ' _you_ '—to set boundaries with her! Sometimes I suspect you even like it…"

"Please, I've been around the block before, I know how to keep it professional. You on the other hand…I've also seen the way you even look at Ana's daughter—come on, Angie, you used to be so—"

"I used to be so uptight, that's what," she countered. They stopped arguing for a second, as the sound of Christmas festivities—Rein's distant booming laughter and celebratory cheers of corks popping, punctured the air.

"Jack, think about it," Angela said. "After all these years, I've had time to think about what matters to me… and who matters to me. This is the family I've chosen. It's the only family I have left. When Overwatch was under all that investigation, who was there with you, making sure we kept everything above board? Not Reyes, not Jesse. Me. We had so much oversight then, of course I kept things under wraps. But now, we're half mercenaries, half fugitives and outlaws…"

"Half dead," he muttered.

"Well," she smiled a little. "You know what I always say about that, hero."

"Yeah, I remember."

She reached out her hand and touched his cheek. That touch—that feeling he knew was coming and yet couldn't stop, didn't want to stop it. He sighed and leaned into it.

"I guess I just haven't felt much, uh, personal anything, from you lately," he admitted. "Not that I should have expected it, you are your own woman. And it's not like we ever…It's just sometimes hard to watch."

"I know," she whispered sweetly, tracing the scars on his face. "You can imagine my shock when both you and Reyes, the two men I thought I had lost forever, came back into my life, and both at once… I've gone through all this grieving and recovery about it. Seeing you again all of sudden… it's a bit jarring. But in some ways, it's… _miraculous_. I guess I haven't figured out how to relate to you again, is all."

"How 'bout as an old friend? Let's start from there," he found himself saying. She slipped her hand into his and they let a more comfortable silence wash over them for a second. _Miraculous…_

"Genji seems… different," Jack commented. "In a good way. Like he's actually learned to care about something. I've been watching him and his brother. Playboy's finally settled down a bit."

"You know he used to write me letters," Angela laughed softly. "From his time in the Shambali. I'd get them while on duty in Iraq. Except he was too shy to sign them with his own name, so for a while I just thought I had a secret omnic admirer from Nepal who thought I was very beautiful and smart and who was struggling to keep his vows…"

"No kidding," Jack let out a small chuckle.

"We've all changed," Angela said. "Well, except maybe Rein. You know he was gallivanting around Germany with this girl—not like that, she was his armorsmith—wearing that old suit and causing trouble…"

"I heard. Torb's finally back on the metal, then? Hasn't given it up to be a garden gnome entirely?"

"Jack, darling," Angela laughed. Her laughter always made him smile.

"Listen, doll—and I know you hated when I called you that," he said hurriedly, rushing out the words before his nerves got to him, "I don't care who you're with. I just want to make sure you don't get hurt. Couldn't stand to lose you again."

"Likewise." She kissed him on the cheek. He held her in his arms, realizing this might have been the closest they'd ever been… well, since that day he died. In that hazy memory of her clutching him to her chest as the smoking rubble of Overwatch HQ burned around them, he remembered the sun hitting her hair in just the right angle—she looked like she had a halo.

"Let's go join the festivities," she whispered softly. "I think everyone's waiting for us. And I smell dinner."

"Ok." He let her go gently, but the heat of her body stayed with him. They approached the doorway of the common area, where the scent of roasted meat and warm baking wafted toward Jack. It almost smelled like… home.

"After you," he said to Angela when they approached the entry. She walked in, stopped, and there was a sudden silence inside—followed by a burst of giggles. Fareeha was standing there, straight dark hair and winged black eyes, her face blushing in front of Angela, pointing upward.

"Honestly, I was betting Commander Morrison would walk in first, but—"

Jack saw a bundle of green mistletoe above the two women's heads. With a small grin, he shoved Angela forward.

"Rules are rules, doll," he said in his best faux-soldier grumble. "If we don't celebrate our traditions, the terrorists win."

Angela and Fareeha leaned in and their lips met. Everyone cheered.

"Maybe I'll just stand here all night and you all can take turns," Angela mumbled, her face flushed entirely pink as she wiped the corners of her mouth a little. Jack thought he saw her give Genji a small wink.

"LOOK! It's snowing!" Lena cried with joy, dashing to the window. The horizon had melted with the ground into one foggy white mass, as tiny flecks of snow pelted the glass screen and the wind kicked up clouds of fluffy dust.

"We're at the north pole," Hana said matter-of-factly. "It does this like, every few hours."

"I've always said the chronal disassociation gives her short term memory loss," Jack said. "Nothing ever gets old to her."

"Hey, it's not very nice to make fun of someone's condition," Lena scolded.

"The polar region has shrunk considerably," Zen commented. "Lena is right to appreciate the beauty we have in front of us." He reached over to the mechanical tree and with one spiny finger, touched its gunmetal grey branch. Green pines erupted from the branches and the ornaments danced with light. Jack could smell the fresh scent of the pine needles.

"EVERYONE! BEHOLD!" Rein yelled, jumping out from behind the electric fireplace, wearing a too tight red t-shirt and hat, muscles bulging from all sides. "SANTA is HERE!"

"I have to say, based on my limited knowledge of your traditions," Hanzo piped up from the corner, "that your friend here—" he gestured to Torbjörn, nursing his fifth beer on a stack of gift boxes, "makes a slightly better Santa Claus."

"Ho, ho, w-who wants to sit on my lap?" Torbjörn belched, his red suit straining against its black buckle. The women in the group looked at each other squeamishly.

The meeting table where they congregated for briefings had been transformed into a miraculous Christmas spread. Champagne flutes filled with bubbly liquid. Roasted red meats, banana bread (Winston had insisted), casseroles, puddings… it was incredible.

"Where did we get all this stuff?" Jack gestured at everything. "Fall off the back of a truck?"

"Aircraft carrier," Winston mumbled. Jack nodded, mildly impressed.

"Has anyone heard from Jesse, by the way?" Angela asked. "I knew we were trying to make contact before the holidays, not like he's much a celebrator…"

"I think he's drinking in a bar again," Winston said. "As usual. I've got him tracked. We'll get to him soon."

"I was tracking him myself for some time while I was on my own," Jack piped up. "In fact, I think he may be in contact with a Talon operative—might be a double agent of sorts—haven't figure it out yet—"

"Noo, he's talking about work again!" Hana wailed, jumping on his back. "Pleeeease, let's just have one day—"

"You were always so serious, even more so now," Fareeha smiled, coming in to grab his waist from the other side. "Mom used to try to get him to smile by shooting foam darts at his head, I remember when I was a kid!"

"Children, please—" Jack grumbled. "Mercy—Mercy help—" But Angela just sat back laughing, still a little flushed. It was exhausting, being back. But Jack couldn't help but feel that, for the first time in a long time, that there were people in his life that genuinely cared for him, and vice versa. He had long told himself that caring for people was what had brought him down in the first place—that he had been too soft, too trusting of people… people like Reyes. But seeing the smile on Angela's face as she pressed her forehead against Genji's helmet, the twinkle in Lena's eyes as she and Winston playfully put stockings on their heads, the peaceful glow that Zenyatta emitted as he floated by the window… Jack couldn't help but feel something in his old, scarred heart again.

"I hate to interrupt," came Athena's voice. "But I've picked up a remote distress signal."

"Remote?" Winston asked, alarmed. "From where?"

"Antarctica."

"You mean, from the other side of the world?" Winston was flabbergasted. "Why would you pick this one up?"

"It's frequency is the same as an old set of signal protocols from my earlier programming."

"An Overwatch signal?" Jack muttered. "Did we have any operations in Antartica?"

"Just an old ecopoint," Winston said, whipping out a handheld holoprojector. "Hang on, Athena, bring up the transmission!"

A screen flickered up in the air, grey and black, static on the audio lines as the team gathered around in apprehension.

Darkness. Then—

"… hello?"

A young woman's accented voice. The screen flickered into focus. A pair of glasses.

"I know that voice!" Angela cried. "Mei-Ling Zhou!"

A Chinese woman's face appeared, smiling with relief. "Oh my gosh! Dr. Ziegler?!"

"Is that really you, Mei? We lost all contact with the Antarctic ecopoint decades ago! I thought you were dead!"

"I was! Well, sort of. I've been back for a few years now!"

"It's a goddamn Christmas miracle," Jack muttered.

"I was traveling around a bit, just got back to this base. Snowball here has been sending out a ping for weeks." She gestured to her tiny weather drone. "Where are you guys?"

"We're uhh," Jack said, "well, it's classified. But you can guess. North. Of where you are. Obviously." He gestured out the window at the snow.

"Commander Morrison?! Wow, you look so old!" She giggled. "What's the weather like up there?"

"Cold!" Lena said.

"Still?" Mei was amazed.

"Still!"

"Hey, Merry Christmas!" Mei smiled, waving at them. "Dr. Ziegler, you look like you haven't aged a day since I met you!"

"You as well, Mei," Angela replied, astonished. "What's your secret?"

"Uh, cryostasis," Mei mumbled, "but I wouldn't recommend it for everyone. It's a long story, but when we lost contact and no one came… I put everyone down including myself. I was the only one to wake up." There was a silence amongst everyone gathered at the screen.

"I'm sorry darling," Angela said.

"It's okay. Snowball has been great to me…I hope you all are thankful that you've got each other! Gosh I miss you!" She waved. The signal began to falter. "Whoops! Storm's coming. I gotta go. Maybe I'll see you all around soon!" She signed off and the screen went black.

They all looked at each other. Angela's hands intertwined with Genji's, who leaned against his mentor, Zen. Hanzo stood with a hand on his brother's shoulder, while Lena popped over to push the drunk Torb over to the dinner table. Winston beckoned the rest of them over, Reinhardt carrying Fareeha and Hana on each of his broad shoulders.

 _Miraculous_ , Jack thought.


End file.
